


Absolute Zero

by Kon_El_of_Kandor



Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: A lot of angst but just as much comfort, Angst, Gen, Self-Harm, Suicidal Thoughts, Symptoms of PTSD, Tim is having a rough time
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-17
Updated: 2019-01-17
Packaged: 2019-10-11 14:49:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,011
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17449070
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kon_El_of_Kandor/pseuds/Kon_El_of_Kandor
Summary: He’s fine. It’s been six days since he’d taken his medication and he’s fine damnit.Tim tries to be fine on his own, and it takes a rough trip to help him understand he doesn’t need to be.





	Absolute Zero

**Author's Note:**

> Tim hasn’t had a happy life and it went largely ignored by the Drakes. Whether it be swept under the rug or ignorance, Tim suffered at their hand. 
> 
> This is the outcome. 
> 
>  
> 
> (Number 29 and coming home are under development! I wrote this in between games and it’s taken a considerable amount of time. Hah. This doesn’t have a Beta so if there are any mistakes let me die in embarrassment and peace. )

* * *

It’s the sudden nausea that threatens to spill his lunch, the constant headaches that don’t let him sleep. When he does finally manage to drift off, sporadic dreams of dark figures and obscure shapes fill his mind.

 

Leaving him gasping, and heart thundering in his chest. The pain in his heart not nearly compares to the pain in his head. Yet he manages to slip out of bed every morning, make his way downstairs and pass the lively decorations.

 

Past the Christmas tree alive with lights and ornaments, the nicely decorated presents that filled the floor beneath it. The floorboards were silent beneath his feet, yet they gave away someone’s location above him.

 

_Probably Alfred._

 

Something’s off. Tim notices right away that it’s too dark for his usual 10 am mid breakfast lunch feast. Alfred always leaves him a plate of potatoes with some egg for his wake up meal.

 

He hasn’t decided if it’s breakfast or lunch so he’ll call it fastlunch. Or brunch like everyone else.

 

Also there’s the fact that the kitchen is spotless, not that Alfred leaves it dirty, but in the sense there’s no food waiting for him.

 

_What time is it?_

 

Turning to the microwave, Tim realizes that he’s overslept by a good eleven hours. Making it now 9 pm. Which is early by bat standards.

 

That’s fine, he can just call up Alfred to help him make a pre-patrol snack.

 

That is until he sees the sticky note on the fridge.

 

_Timothy._

 

_I know with so much on your mind it must have slipped that I have left for my visit to England. I have left you some food to last you my trip. I did not want to risk waking you for it seems you’ve finally gotten the sleep you need._

 

_Best regards_

_-A_

 

True to his word there was some food left in the fridge, still he knew it wasn’t all that Alfred left him for Tupperware was in the sink.

 

Jason.

 

Of course he couldn’t have a single thing in this house without his siblings finding out about it from half a city away.

 

Sucking in his breath he held it trying to calm himself. He loved his siblings, he did. Still he was understandably frustrated that he’d go on patrol without food.

 

_You haven’t taken your medicine in six days._  A traitorous thought that suspiciously sounded like Dick said to him.

 

Right Dick.

 

He had promised his older brother he’d take his medicine, but here in the kitchen his bathroom seemed so far away. Promising himself that he’d take them tomorrow he walked toward the grandfather clock.

 

Not wanting to go out, but feeling morally obligated. He didn’t want to dress up in some stupid bird costume to take down random thugs. But people died when he didn’t and that kept him up at night. What a way to go.

 

Still it was early for Red Robin to be seen. So he headed to the lockers to change into his uniform and login some time into the computer.

 

It’s four hours later and he’s on patrol that he finds himself feeling completely drained and empty. His heart is kicking up a storm in his chest to the point where it’s painful. He impulsively swallows as something tries to come up is throat and it gets caught in a hiccup.

 

Grimacing, he sits down and rips his mask off. Hands still stuck in gloves he wants nothing more than to rip off, clutch at his hair and he pulls. Pulls hard, enough to feel pain blossoming from his roots.

 

Dejected he pulls harder and tears threaten to fall as it’s not enough. He needs something, to feel something. Needs something, but he can’t feel.

 

He’s gasping as his lungs burn for air. Frustration hits him and he punches the rocky roof of the building he’s on.

 

Of course his gloves absorb all the impact and he punches harder. Harder. Harder.

 

Until he feels a crack in his wrist and registers the pain in his arm.

 

Gasping slowly he holds up his twisted wrist and weeps as the pain slowly fades.

 

Not enough.

 

Tim desperately wants to feel something. _Anything._

 

_Just take the stupid medicine_ he thinks to himself. _They gave it to you for a fucken reason._

 

The cold December air threatens to give him frostbite yet Tim still sits alone on the rooftop.

 

_Where’s everyone?_

 

They probably left him. Serves him right for taking and never giving back. If only they could see how much he’s hurting now.

 

Pushing up to his feet he knows he can feel his wrist protesting but it’s as if it’s in the background.

 

Like the music on a tab you just can’t find. It’s somewhere in there but just not here. Not right in front of him.

 

It’s nagging and serves to remind him that this is all real. That he can still feel, still function.

 

_And isn’t that a disgrace. All that time and money spent on you and you can’t even wake up on time._

 

Oracle would probably listen to him. Maybe.

 

Jason would laugh.

 

Damian wouldn’t care.

 

Dick, Dick would listen. Dick would care, in fact he’d dro- _Don't think about him right now, why bother him._

 

With so much gasping he’d forgotten to close his mouth and now his throat was too dry to swallow. Or was that the panic-

 

No he wasn’t. He’s fine. It’s been six days since he’d taken his medication and he’s fine damnit.

 

Right first focus on breathing and then swallowing and then walking and then-

 

_Then what?_

 

It’s only then that he realizes that he’s atop Drake Industries last remaining tower. Not the tallest building in Gotham but high enough to afford him somewhat privacy.

 

Even so it was the business district, no one in Gotham stayed here past one am.

 

_Then why are you here?_

 

The more he thought, the harder breathing became. Gripping his wrist he fought to feel pain. To feel something.

 

Tightening his grip from his left hand onto the wrist of his right, he only felt a small spark of pain.

 

Crying out in frustration he slammed his wrist toward the central control unit not to far from him.

 

He heard what was probably the small bones in his hand breaking from the poor form but nothing.

 

Breathing hard and tears welling up into his eyes he dropped to his knees and threw his head into his arms.

 

Laying in an awkward position, almost as if he were begging on his knees.

 

He panted against the rocks on the roof and his thoughts became silent. The darkness surrounding him lulled his thoughts more. He cared less about feeling nothing.

 

It was easier this way. He let darkness pull him into a dream like state, except there were no figures or shapes. Just darkness. He was happy. It was blissful. Until a single thought crossed his mind.

 

_The ledge._

 

That’s it! What perfect way than to channel into his primary instincts of survival. Grinning he threw down his utility belt, unclipped his cape and stared into the abyss.

 

Gotham looked peaceful from so high up. Yet he could see the narrows and crime alley where he knew there were at least some trouble going down.

 

Yet here, so far from home yet so close. Tim felt no urge to save the day. Gotham looked beautiful from here. He could see how Bruce fell in love with this city. This unforgiving city. This city that ripped apart his family members ruthlessly. This city that brought together the survivors of the Wayne’s, Graysons, Todd’s and Drake’s. The city that forged them into something powerful. This city that also damned them.

 

This city. He loved it. Yet he hated it.

 

He would give his life to her. He would move the second he could.

 

It’s only one step. One step and he’s free. Tim would never have to set another alarm to take his sixth pill. He wouldn’t have to clean himself off of the bile from another horrible nightmare. He wouldn’t have to set foot out of the cave ever again. He wouldn’t….ever see his family again.

 

See Dick fly through the air with such ease. See Jason hit a target from so far it’d make the Arrows jealous. See Damian fuss over the litter of kitten he’d found in the barn in Kansas. Wouldn’t hear Alfred tell him stories of his youth.

 

He wouldn’t be able to celebrate another Father’s Day with Bruce.

 

Tears fell freely and inside his chest, inside the dam that held all of his emotions. He felt it crack and wither as he thought of his family. Until it burst open and he openly cried.

 

Stepping back, Tim tripped over nothing and he lay on his back staring into the cool darkness of the sky above Gotham.

 

_Would I have really jumped?_

 

The shaking in his arms convinced him that yes. Yes he would have.

 

Dark figures danced across his eyes as his body overloaded. The faster his mind spun the harder it was to control. To regain control.

 

It was as if he was driving, heading so fast into oblivion that by the time he realized he should have let go of the brakes that he had already begun to spin out.

  
  


“-im?”

  
  


“-d Robin ca-“

  
  


“-ort”

 

First thing Tim noticed was that he was looking up at the sky. Second was that his eyes were dry from not blinking.

 

Blinking, he saw that the sky had turned from a deep dark purple to a nice violet pink. Smiling he reached out to touch the warmth he saw.

 

His smile grew as the sun rose.

 

The sky changed to a somber violet and the oranges and pinks became brighter and the sun approached the horizon. Yet darkness was still here as the sun was not out yet.

 

“Tim, Red Robin. Please come in.”

 

Tim’s eyes widened as he hears his comm. come to life with noise.

 

Sitting up he reaches toward it only to feel sharp stabbing and shooting pains up his wrist and arm.

 

Gasping he glances down to see his glove torn and ripped in several places. Dried blood sears it’s way into his nose as the stench finally hits him.

 

_Fuck_

 

Not only do most of his fingers not respond to his command but his wrist looks badly mangled.

 

Grimacing he gently holds his wrist closer to him. Standing to his feet he notices a lack of cape and belt and wildly looks around him only to find nothing.

 

_How am I going to get down._

 

Peering over the edge he expects an intense sense of vertigo he usually gets.

 

But nothing.

 

Almost as if...it’s calling to him.

 

Telling him to jump.

 

To come closer.

 

And closer he gets. His mind consumed by a single thought that burdened him last night, and so many nights before.

 

_Finally._

 

Finally Tim agrees.

 

It’s only a step.

 

So a step he takes.

 

Or tries to take.

 

“Red Robin!” He hears from his ear again.

 

Right. The comm. The pain, his arm.

 

Right. Reaching up with his left he answers, his voice cracking from all the screaming he must have done last night.

 

There was no other reason for it to be hoarse.

 

“Red Robin.” He replies.

 

“Jesus Tim where have you been!” He hears Oracle furiously typing in the background as guilt finally strikes him.

 

_Finally._

 

_Where have you been all night._

 

“Oracle.” He whispers as his emotions threaten to dissipate once again. The shaking comes to life, the cold not even remotely close to the reason behind it. His stomach churns yet again.

 

Noticing the hesitation in his voice the typing stills and he hears Barb much clearer now.

 

“Tim what’s wrong.”

 

_If only she knew._

 

“How long have you been calling me?” He asks because he’s a coward.

 

“A little over ten minutes. I was just about to call in B.”

_No. Not B_

 

“...”

 

“Tim?” He hears the hesitation. _She knows._

 

_“_ Yeah Barb?” He asks and god even he can hear the wetness in his voice and the shaking continues to threaten to make itself heard.

 

“What’s wrong?” His breathing becomes shallow and he knows she can probably hear him.

 

“Where’s Nightwing. Please call him. Please I need. I. Please.” He chokes out. Bile threatens him yet again and he has to clamp him mouth shut in order to keep whatever it is from appearing.

 

“I don’t have you location Timbo.” She speaks so softly and smooth. It relieves Tim’s aching burns and his breathing slows just so slightly.

 

“Tim Tam?” He hears her whisper in such a calm tone.

 

“Roof of Drake.” He says ever so slightly, hardly enough for the comm to hear him.

 

But hear him it does.

 

“Patching you through to N.” N. His medicine. His shoulder to cry on. His wonderful brother. He smiles.

 

“Hey Timbo, I’m a few minutes out. Mind staying in your spot?”

 

“Hmm?” He hears the words but the shaking continues. The breathings fine, his heart pounds away in his chest. Hiccups are gone but the fog is back. Threatening him.

 

Somethings always threatening him.

 

“Hey kiddo. Hey, stay with me. Tell me what you’re doing.” He hears.

 

“I’m sitting down again. The floor is cold. I like it.”

 

“You do. Don’t you you. For a summer baby you love the winter huh.” Dick replies, his voice ever so gentle.

 

Soothing so much more than the aching pain in his heart.

 

Smiling Tim begins to lower his back into the roof. Staring at the morning wake up.

 

“I love the winter.” He repeats.

 

Loves the snow, the snowball fights with Jay especially.

 

“Jay loves them too babybird. He’d love it more if you were there to tell him.” He must have said that out loud.

 

“I’ll tell him.” He replies closing his eyes.

 

“Yeah you will. Don’t worry Tim Tam. We’ll get you to him. Then you can tell him.”

 

“Yeah” He replies, the shaking continues but his heart is still in his throat.

 

Despite this he smiles.

 

* * *

  


He feels himself getting lifted into someone’s lap. A little awkward to hug since his arms not responding.

 

It’s only after he finally registers his hair being pet that he realizes he’s crying.

 

“Sshhh it’s okay little bird. You’re safe. You’re here.” He hears.

 

Nightwing.

 

His big brother. He came. He actually came.

 

Not caring for his injured arm he wraps himself around his brother and cries harder.

 

“Woah baby bird your arm. Please watch out for your arm.” Nightwing whispers to him he carefully pries Tim’s broken arm toward his baby brothers chest.

 

A broken sound emanates from him as he sees the extent of Tim’s arm. If it isn’t set soon, he runs the risk of not healing correctly. Time is short but Nightwing knows he can’t rush this.

 

“Walk me through it baby bird. What do you feel.”

 

“Nothing.” Tim replies in absolute truth.

 

“No pain, no nothing. I wanted it to end.” He whispers as he tries to seek comfort from his brothers hugs.  

 

“Don’t worry. We’ll get home. It’ll end baby bird.” Dick replies as he strokes his baby birds hair.

 

Looking down he notices that along with his cape, the belt is missing.

Dick suddenly goes rigid as a horrible picture paints itself in the evidence on the rooftop.

 

“I wanted to die.” Tim confirms. Oracle sounded worried but they had foolishly thought it was just another one of Tim’s panic attacks.

 

Holding his baby brother closer to his chest, he holds onto his scent. His breathing and his movements. Cherishing the fact that he holds Timothy Jackson Drake-Wayne alive in his arms.

 

Alive.

 

Had Tim been so determined he would have been holding something so much more worse.

 

Crying silently Dick buries his face into his brothers hair, relieved that he can feel him underneath.

 

Alive!

 

“We’ll get you home, baby bird. Home to your family.”

He whispers.

 

And if the crack in his voice his heard, for once Dick doesn’t care.

 

* * *

 

Tim’s mind usually fires at lightning speeds, and oftentimes that’s exactly what causes him to overthink. Overreact.

 

His mind thinking of every scenario possible, for a simple trip to the mall. His mind creates a doomsday scenario.

 

Worse if his responsibilities at Wayne Tech merge with his crime fighting. On days that he can keep it a lid on it with medication, he feels at peace even with his family constantly at his throat with their absurdity.

 

With Dick and his overbearing nature. Jason and his hard shell and soft interior. Damian and his…. well Tim couldn’t find a positive but he had time.

 

_He had time._

 

Against all odds, he was alive. He could feel the blistering headache, the pain lancing his arm and the sorrow filling his heart.

 

Sorrow at his family finding out just how bad he become again. Tim remembers how happy they’d been when his doctor told them he was making remarkable progress. How Tim exceeded all expectations and was on the path of recovery.

 

If only it hadn’t been a sham. He’d been lying for months and feeling worse. God only knows how he’s been able to go so long and still be able to function.

 

He sure as hell doesn’t.

 

Resolve hits him and he promises to himself that he’ll get better. That he won’t let his family see him fall that hard ever again.

 

If only he could keep that promise. He NEEDS to keep this promise.

 

His mind unusually fast, was considerably slow now. Slow to wake him and slow to fill in the confusion that met his eyes.

 

He knew he was in the cave, but didn’t understand why. Wouldn’t he be in a hospital? Or would Bruce be able to take care of him here. Could he?

 

Tim attempted to sit up, to relieve the fuzziness but an arm to his shoulder stopped him.

 

Confused he followed the arm up to a torso. He stared at the chest as if it would reveal their identity.

 

“Up here baby bird.” He hears someone say, though his brain is going so slow he can’t place the voice to the anyone.

 

Glancing up he notices a stark white tuft of hair, surrounded by darker hair. An odd choice but it triggers his mind to catch up.

 

“Jason?” His voice all but cracks and yeah Tim has enough sense to feel shame about the question in his tone.

 

“Yeah. Just me little bird.” Jay smiles at him in a broken way.

 

The smile stays for a fraction of a second before it melts away. There was no way he’d admit it later but he swears he say a little moisture to Jays eyes.

 

“Why didn’t you tell us you weren’t getting better?” His brother asks quietly as if speaking too loud would shatter all the progress that Tim’s made.

 

And yeah maybe speaking a little too loud would break him again.

 

“I uh, I was doing good. And um didn’t take my medicine because of it. And mm yeah.” He fiddled with his hands throughout the entire sentence. Stopping every so often to think of how to make this situation not as bad as it looked.

 

Which of course turned out to be the wrong choice.

 

“Tim, we looked in your medicine cabinet. Your bottles are nearly full and it’s the end of the month. You have to take your medicine. Is there a reason why you aren’t?”

 

Yet again Jay speaks softly. This treating him like he’s broken begins to irritate him, and his face must show it because Jason backs off.

 

“If not for you then for us. Please take them Tim.” He speaks with resolution. The tears in Jason’s eyes freely fall as he continues and for the first time Tim genuinely feels bad about his wayward actions.

 

“We can’t lose you baby bird. You’re the glue that holds us together. To see you hurting and In so much pain.” He clenches his eyes shut and shakes his head.

 

“Just please, I don’t know what I’d do without you.” The last part is whispered as he stands to leave. Panic strikes him at the thought of being alone.

 

His hand whips out and he grabs onto Jason’s.

 

“Please don’t. I’m.. I’m sorry.” Tim speaks but it feels empty. Jason must notice as he grimaces but stays.

 

“Yeah. I’ll stay.” He nods toward Tim to lay back down.

 

“Sleep. I can’t promise it’ll be me when you wake up but someone will be here.” Jason finally speaks in a normal tone.

 

Tim,for once, listens.

* * *

 

 

It’s a week later that Bruce is less emotionally constipated that Tim is asked into his study.

 

It’s there that he finds Dick and Bruce sitting, not in a formal way like talking in Bruce’s study usually is.

 

This seems cozier as Bruce is in his PJs and Dick is wearing whatever can pass as sleepwear.

 

“Tim.” Bruce says warmly, offering hot chocolate toward him.

 

Probably instant because if we’re being honest, Bruce can’t make hot chocolate for shit.

 

Tim takes it and also a seat by Dick. A barrier between him and Bruce but also a comforting presence. Dick had always been comforting.

 

Maybe he took that for granted since it probably would have saved him this whole fiasco had he confided in his older brother from the start.  

 

“Where’s the insta mix old man?” Tim laughs off lightly as he grips the cup. The smell… is like Alfreds but he’s been fooled before. Hesitantly he sipped the cocoa before deeming it a probably expensive brand of instant chocolate.

 

“We made it. Dick and I, I mean.” Bruce clarifies. The mouthful of chocolate he was about to swallow suddenly a little difficult.

 

Dick and Bruce made him his favorite drink? Alfred's special way too. He gripped the cup a little harder at the lengths his family would go it.

 

_His family._

 

The family he was about to leave, the family he didn’t even think twice about when his emotions spilled over and found the well suddenly empty.

 

But he could feel now, and the only thing coming up was shame. Buckets and buckets full of shame. What a son he was.

 

He didn't notice the tears streaming down his face but he did feel the hug that someone- that both of them engulfed him in.

 

“I’m Sorry. I’m so sorry. I want to get better I do. It’s just so hard.” He has no idea where his cup has gone as his arms are completely around Dick. The feeling is a bit off and an awkward jangle of limbs especially with the cast on his right.

 

He feels Bruce behind him and strangely enough, feels the tremor in his father's arm.

 

The tremor caused by the thought of losing Tim. He didn’t have a choice when he lost Jason but Tim was willing leaving.

 

Tim’s heart hurt at the thought of Bruce knowing his son didn’t want to live. That his son thought Bruce didn’t love him.

 

“It’s okay Tim. It’ll be okay. You have us. You have your family here. We won’t let you go, even if you don’t want to stay.” Bruce states as Dick has his head buried in Tim’s hair.

 

The hiccuping comes from Dick but Tim’s just as emotional when he drags Bruce into their hug.

 

“Don’t leave us, please if you ever feel bad. Just please. I don’t know what I’d do without you. Without my baby bird.” Dick’s hug grew tighter as he held Tim, not wanting to part with the younger bird. Hearing that for the second time hurt even more than the first.

 

Tim knew the road he faced was long and difficult. That’d he’d want to give up a hundred times before he made any significant headway.

 

Despite that, Tim smiles.

 

For the journey may be difficult, but it wasn’t impossible. Especially with his family at his back.

 

Now and always.


End file.
